Bad Influence
by ILikeInappropriateThings
Summary: Long shot! On the run from Atem's palace guards, Marik seeks shelter in a house that seems empty, but unfortunately isn't. There he meets Bakura, who turns out to be quite an intriguing hostage. I cannot write summaries to save my life.


**This took way too long, considering it's not as good as I had originally planned. It was meant to be a multichapter story, but I couldn't have another story laying around, so it's a one shot. If anyone wants a 'sequel' I'll see what I can do.**

**Okay, so life update. **

**I would like to clarify a few things first. I am sorry I haven't had much time to write any chapters for my other stories, but seeing the reviews and such, I decided I wasn't going to bust my ass and stress myself to please a few people, I'm that selfish, yes. Second, I wish people wouldn't be so afraid to review, or comment, or at least send me a message, or do I come off as this mean motherfucker? I love, love, love reviews, they make me feel like I actually did something right with what I wrote, and not just a one-sentenced- "I loved it!", Because those just make me want to bash my head through a wall.**

**I would take your life story, or an essay, or a novelle about how much you love cats, instead of "Omg, great story.", because while it makes me glad people liked it, it's not really descriptive. I'm not going to bite off anyone's head, but considering I write so much rape, I guess people kind of expect it. **

**I honestly met a girl recently, in person, who had up until that day, never met me. She had read all my fanfictions, she thought they were great, but the moment she saw me, she said I didn't look gothic enough. Turns out, that when you when Psychoshipping rape fictions, you gotta look gothic, apparently. And oh, I was much 'nicer' than she thought I'd be. Do I seriously come off as this fucking psycho, cuz I would like to know then.**

**Also, I do not want to go into details, because it's not a self biography, but I do not, feel good lately. It's been dragging on for nearly a year, going up and down, but I need to point out that I am prioritizing my mental health over fanfictions. Obviously, no one here is at fault, and I'm not fond of saying this, since I've refrained from writing it for a lot of months so far, but when I do have spare time, I lose interest in my story immediatly because I'm afraid of rejection, much like my drawings. I'll stop whining now, but now I've said it, to those who wonder why my updates aren't as frequent as before.**

**Warning: Shotacon/Minor (This means - Bakura is young), Yaoi, other things that I've forgot. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh.**

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He tore down the crowded street, roughly shoving people aside and laughing like a madman as he did. Jumping a suitable haybale near one of the stands, next to two stray donkies, he easily climbed to the top of a small house and set off towards south, aiming for the desert outskirts. With catlike leaps that seemed too long to be humanly possible, the Egyptian made his way over the rooftops, a confident grin spread on his face. The sun was burning on his back, sweat was dripping from his brows, dirt kicked up into the air in a swarm, and soon, the stressful marketplace was behind him.

Sitting down on the edge of a small roof, he breathed in deeply, brushing a wild bang from his eyes and ruffled a hand through thick, blond tresses. Looking around amongst the small patches of houses, he tried to locate a place to get a bite to eat. He glanced thoughtfully at a little hut, ready to go in and hog whatever food that might be there, till a tiny girl, no older than 5 bounced out of the front door, assumingly tugging her father's hand. Grimacing at his own pathetic behaviour, the blond rolled his eyes and tried to find a new home. It just didn't seem appealing to kill anyone in front of their children, and he was good at finding loopholes, he could find proper food somewhere else.

The Egyptian stood back up, a soft jingle coming from the pouch he was carrying. He smirked lightly, satisfied with the amount of loot he'd been able to retrieve that day, and from the Pharaoh's bedroom even. It felt tempting to go to the nearest brothel to blow all the money on gorgeous ladies, but if he did, the money would be long gone before sunrise. Besides, someone would be sure to point out that anyone with his looks wouldn't have that sort of cash to spend, and he'd be in for it. He had to make it last, he wasn't exactly keen on going back to the palace anytime soon, those guards were probably still after him, despite a hunt that lasted an afternoon.

It was amusing though, to see the look on Atem's face when he stole a wide variety of things from his chambers, and jumped the window, only to be followed through the whole damned city. He liked to cause trouble however, and Atem's lackey's were dumb as rocks, they always tried to stop him with polite requests, instead of going for the kill.

And then, like today, they'd start hunting him, and he'd run, with all of his money and jewelry, through the marketplace where it was smarter to just be rude. He could slip past those huge crowds, just by shoving, pushing and picking shortcuts to the smaller parts of town, where he was currently residing. And then, he'd need a place to eat, and he'd sleep at a nearby inn, or in a makeshift camp.

As he went to attach the little pouch to his belt, the Egyptian heard noise far away, coming closer by the second, and it wasn't good a noise. Agitated that those morons hadn't given up yet and didn't just put a price on his head, since this was far from the first time, he jumped from the roof, looking for an empty house to hide in, till the storm would be over.

Determined, he walked quickly through the little street, through an alleyway and over a short claywall, where he ended up at an even more deserted area in the city. Not that he minded, if anyone happened to be in the house, he'd either pay them to cover up for him, since it was a rather...Generous sum he'd gathered. And if they refused, there were always other ways to convince people, he decided smugly as he drew a short dagger from a hidden sheath that ran along his calf.

"This seems promising." The blond mumbled quietly to himself, looking behind to check for any possible witnesses and hurriedly made his way through the back door of a modest house, with smoke rising from a hidden chimney he'd just picked out. He could hear the guards coming closer, and he wasn't going to let them catch him in a dead end like a mere dog, so he quickly closed the wooden door after him and took a glance around, slightly irritated by the darkness.

Stepping into the house with caution, the blond thief tugged up a dark scarf to cover his face, stopping briefly as recognized the sound of metal clanging together. It came not too far away, so he pressed into the wall, moving towards the noise like a sneaking serpent. Drawing the dagger to his chest, ready to throw it at any possible enemies, he peeped around the corner, his eyes flickering about to scan the area, but was only able to detect a single person. One with their back turned towards him at that.

Lips curling into a cocky grin, the thief nonchalantly brushed a bang from his cheek, not bothering to take this man seriously, before he heard him cough, and slowly turn around.

"I don't assume you're intending to buy anything from me?" The man said calmy, and for a moment, it bothered the Egyptian, beyond belief that he'd been caught already. But before anyone could be able see his surprise, he frowned, narrowing his eyes.

"Hm. I've already got what I need." Said the blond slowly, letting his gaze run across the shelves behind the man, which were filled with various weapons of all shapes and sizes. There were even knives like his, but fairly more shiny than his. And seeing how there had been smoke rising from the chimney, he assumed this man was the local blacksmith, it certainly wasn't normal to have such a weaponry in the middle of the kitchen.

"If you've got what you need, then you wouldn't mind leaving then." The man demanded, and through those thick dark eyes, there was fear, or just simple uncertanity. Grinning widely, the thief shrugged, playing with the tip of his knife, still ready to throw it directly at his throat if he dared oppose him. Not that he wanted to, he didn't especially want a corpse lying around for too long in the warmth.

"I'm going to stay here." He informed the whitehaired male, stepping closer and raised a hand when the other backed away, as if afraid. "I'm not going to do you anything, if you just follow my lead."

"You can't stay." He was told, as if he was just a child. And rolling his eyes in irritation, the Egyptian sighed, knowing that he had the upper hand for now, there was no way that old man would try and fight him off. His hair was white, going grey, if that was even possible, and he looked like he was in his 40's, at least. The fact that he was scared of him, was also a reason he knew he was better.

"And why is that? I'll pay you." The blond announced, pulling a thin golden necklace from the little pouch with loot, dangling it playfully. But this still didn't seem to help, it seemed to upset the other male even further. His eyes widened, and with a sudden determination, he walked towards the Egyptian, seeming to ignore the knife in his hand and gave the thief a light push.

"You need to go now, that jewelry belongs to the Pharaoh." He said, sounding angry.

"That's very much correct. But no one will know that if you try and pawn it off somewhere. I told you I'd pay you, so let me sleep here, and you cover up for me." The thief repeated, waltzing off to look at the weapons, amazed by the sharp edges and materials. He ran a finger over one of the short swords, drawing blood as he did.

"No, now don't touch those boy, they were made specifially for the palace guards, and I'm being paid a generous amount of money for them."

"Hmfr. I'm offering you money too, but I guess the Pharaoh's money is better than mine then." Muttered the blond, feeling too warm with a fireplace going on inside, but he ignored it.

"I'm an honest man, now go. Please, I don't want to have to report yo-" The man began to threaten, but before he could end his sentence, something came rushing past him, and a dagger buried itself snugly in the doorframe next to his head.

"You're not going to report me, if you try - **I'll kill you,** simple as that" The thief said dangerously, pulling another dagger from the little pocket, revealing a third one along with it. "And you do want that money that Atem had promised you, don't you? Well, if you want it, you can listen to me and spare your life, I'm not unfair."

Frowning, the man seemed to obey, and relucantly listened, and watched carefully as the thief stepped closer, pulling out a handful of coins from the pouch.

"Here. Let me stay here for the night, find a brothel and use these." He put them firmly at the table, locking eyes with the older male. "With this type of money you can have company by more than one pretty lady you know, and no one can resist that, now can they?" He teased, gently pushing the little pile of coins towards the other.

"I can't. I have commitments, I can't simple leave from here, and even though you're just a boy, you must understand." The man pressed on, annoying the Egyptian with his persistance, he just wouldn't give up.

"I'm not afraid of killing you, now go." Hissed the blond, stalking towards the much taller man with his dagger ready and urged him to leave out the back door. And even though the other one tried to get a hold of him, he was a step ahead, stabbing at his wrist and made him remove his filthy paws off of him.

"Out!" The thief repeated, already at the exit and tried to push him out, without having to kill him in the doorway, they were so far, he just needed to listen. But the closer they got, the more panicked the man grew, and struggled to get back inside.

"No, those need to be delivered by sunrise, Atem personally asked for it, and-!"

"-And I'll be gone by then, isn't that nice? Just go to an inn, or find some pretty ladies to spend the night with, just stay away from here!" Barked the Egyptian, growing angrier by the second, he wasn't sure why this was so important.

"My so-"

"Tell Atem that Marik said hello, if you see him!" He finally commented, shoving the door closed and barricaded it as quickly as he possibly could, ignoring the rather desperate pleas.

"Just leave! I won't rob you of your livestock, it's not even worth it-" Marik yelled, throwing his knife at the door in a short moment of anger. It lodged itself in the wood, jotting out vertically.

"-And I'm not letting you in!" He snapped finally, sighing deeply as he instantly went to rummage through the kitchen for anything edible. His stomach hurt, and he felt slightly nauseous, so he decided to check, there had to be something he could take. The knocking continued though, still as persistant as ever, so he went to the door, about to throw it open and stab the fellow in the gut.

"Please, just give me my son!" The man yelled, and Marik's brows furrowed in confusion. He was sure he'd been alone. Standing up, he decided to ask if this was a simple scheme, when he heard a light shuffle of tiny feet behind him and whipped around, schooling his expression into one of anger.

"...Daddy?" A little figure, with large brown and doelike eyes asked, thin, pale hands grasping the doorframe tightly. Marik remained quiet, locking gazes with the child and waited patiently for something to happen, though he was pretty sure that he could kill that frail creature just by looking at him.

"Listen, your father is a bit busy right now and-" The Egyptian explained, but before he could finish properly, he noticed that those tiny feet had begun backing away from him, ready to flee. Lurching forward, he set off, quickly pouncing onto the boy and directed his attention to that face, clamping his jaws together with force. He tightened his palm, wrapped an arm around the other's waist to keep him in place and brushed a thick white bang from his ears.

"I said listen-" He said quietly, cut off by a frightened scream, that he muffled with his hand, and he sighed, overpowering the boy easily.

"Don't scream, don't scream! Calm down." The blond hushed, forcing the little ones head back gently, with the intent of making him quieten up before he'd cause any trouble with that noise. A quiet croak of pain met his ears, and he could feel everything in that tiny creature pulsating with instinctive fear. He gave him a moment to catch his breath, before grinning, and speaking again.

"Shhh, come on, I'm** not **gonna hurt you." Marik promised, giving the boys body a firm squeeze, as if to reassure that this was the truth. They stared at each other, and he waited for the boy to return to his senses, but it didn't work, he grew heavy in his arms, and his eyes were still wide with cold fear. Carefully releasing the child at the waist, Marik pushed him away, withdrawing his hand. He almost found it adorable that the little runt covered his chest, right atop of his heart, as if it would keep it from beating away as frantically as before.

"**Please don't kill me.**" Whined the boy at last, large, fearful tears welling up in his eyes, that he seemed to fight to keep in. Ignoring this as best as he could, Marik went back to find some food and began to rummage through the house once again.

"I wasn't planning to." He said flatly, watching the boy from the corner of his eye. He sighed, noticing that he was already trying to make a run for it once more, creeping along the wall to draw less attention to himself. Growling in annoyance, he turned, quickly managing to snatch the collar of his shirt, and yanked it back harshly.

"Listen, this is going to be a very long day if you keep doing that." He sneered, snapped his fingers once and pointed at a wooden chair in the far corner. "Sit there, or I might reconsider snipping your head off." The Egyptian finished, firmly planting one of his knives into the table, an eyebrow raised.

"Who are you?" Asked the runt, swallowing hard as he stiffly made his way to the chair and planted himself, his short legs dangling loosely in the air.

"One of your daddy's friends, of course. Who are you?" Marik answered, amused by the surprised look on his face when he said so. He flashed him a toothy grin, going through a cupboard, annoyed that he found only tools and scraps of metal.

"My name is Bakura." The boy replied promptly, still seeming a bit nervous from the threat that lingered, although Marik had forgotten about it already.

"That's a cute name, but **mine** is cuter." Marik muttered indifferently, turning his attention to a familiar voice coming from the outside. He growled quietly, shooting the boy a glare before he went to the door, leaning against it and breathed heavily.

"I'm** not **letting him out. He'll be my ticket to safety if you decide to tell on me to Atem, if he's here and you want him to be safe, keep **me** safe too. But, if you promise me you'll just go have fun at the brothel, I'll take care of your son as if he were my own." Marik explained, glancing back over his shoulder and grinned, wanting to accumulate fear in the little one, from the sheer thought of what he **could **do to him.

"No! I will give you whatever you want, please just give me back my son!" The blacksmith begged, on the obvious verge of panic, and Marik watched in amusement as Bakura grabbed his shirt, his tiny fists kneading away in it.

"Why do you think I stole from a Pharaoh in the first place? There's nothing I'm interested in right now, other than pleasing myself, so just go along and leave him with me!" Marik barked back, pointing at Bakura angrily and sneered, "Tell him that you're okay."

"Daddy I'm fine!" Bakura answered, and Marik heard a shaky breath from the other side, as if he was giving up already, luckily.

"Okay. **Okay**, but **you, thief.** You need to promise me that if I keep you safe – You keep my son safe too. I will personally make you suffer if you don't."

Smiling in content, Marik turned on his heel and nonchalantly started the seemingly endless hunt for food.

"It's not the first time I heard that threat!" He lilted, delighted when he recieved no response. His plan had worked, and now he was finally alone, far away from the guards, and...Somewhat alone. But it didn't matter he decided, as he forced a shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor and pulled out in the thinner one beneath. It was too warm in there with that fire, but loose pants and an almost non existent shirt in tatters would have to do. He glanced at Bakura for less than a second, wondering if the shirt he wore was better than his own clothing.

"I'm...Is there anything you're looking for?" The boy said curiously, staying put, much like a submissive dog, even though he seemed so eager to run off.

"Something to eat, I haven't eaten since yesterday, and I'm not about to waste what I've got of my own. Care to help me?" Marik answered bluntly, gesturing for the little one to entertain himself.

"Yes, but I have to..." Bakura stared at him, wide eyed and fearful, as he gently set one foot on the floor.

"You can go." Marik sighed and watched as he jumped down, shuffling across the room and found a little cupboard, opening it up and revealed a modest food that Marik had gladly overseen so far. Frowning, he walked over and knelt down, staring at Bakura.

"Did you know this all along? But didn't tell me?" He said, watching as one of Bakura's pale hands reached in, only to put a loaf of bread in Marik's own.

"Yes..." Bakura murmered shyly, returning to his spot on the chair and held his head down, now visibly afraid. "I was afraid you'd hurt me."

Sighing deeply, the thief stood up, feeling irritated. He didn't want to have to put up a nicer act, but the kid looked ready to cry, and he didn't want that either.

"Come on," He began, ripping the bread over in half as he made his way back to Bakura. "Don't cry, that's just foolish. And don't be afraid of me. If you cooperate with me it'll be over soon enough." Marik said simply, dropping the bread in the other's lap and went to sit by the opposite corner, sliding to the floor, back against the wall.

"...Okay." Bakura pressed out, barely parting his lips as he clamped his bare knees together and plucked off a piece of bread. He ate it slowly, as if Marik had poisoned it and kept his eyes locked with the blonds all the while.

"Just stay** right there**, it's not that hard." The Egyptian replied, ignoring the other's stare and ate, deciding it was time to be quiet now. When he'd finished, he unwrapped his loose scarf, putting it at the floor next to himself and crossed his arms, looking everywhere but at Bakura, because he knew that little runt was staring intensely at him.

It wasn't that he felt bothered by it, he just knew that if he returned the gawking, it'd upset him, and he wasn't sure if he could handle that. It could be amusing though, except hearing constant weeping didn't sound promising, and children always cried too much.

"You never told me who you are." Bakura suddenly said, breaking the silence. Glancing up tiredly, Marik grunted in annoyance and wolfed down the rest of his food quite indifferently.

"Hm. I won't say it if you're only going to tell on me." He murmered, grinning widely and felt a sudden, uncontrollable urge to bite Bakura's pink lips when they parted. But he didn't, finding the sheer thought quite disturbing.

"I'm not going to tell." Insisted Bakura, as he awkwardly settled his palms in his lap, submissively staying on his spot like he was told.

"Can I trust you?" Marik asked cockily, slowly making his way to his feet and crossed his arms.

"Yes, I don't lie." Bakura muttered, looking down quickly when Marik tried to meet his gaze squarely. Laughing quietly to himself, the thief sauntered over to him, tracing a pair of tan fingers along the smaller ones pale jawline.

"Yet...Are you sure about that? You look like a little liar."

"I'm not!" Snapped the boy, visibly shivering.

"I'll be the judge of that. Now, Bakura, how old are you. And who do you **think** I am?" Marik questioned, tilting Bakura's head up to meet his eyes and set a hand on either side of his face this time.

"I'm 13, and...I don't know."

Smiling faintly, Marik leaned over, getting so close to the little one he could feel his frantic breath on his lips.

"My name is Marik Ishtar, I'm 24, I'm a thief and I've never been anything else, and now - I trust you to stay quiet and to never mention me to **anyone...**Okay?" He whispered, feeling Bakura nod and he noticed a timid, nimble hand grab at his shirt tugging in it gently.

"Why do you steal things?" Bakura said, releasing him again.

"Because I have to, my naive little soul."

"**Why **do you have to?"

"So that I can survive, you don't want me to **die,** now do you?" Marik chuckled, caressing Bakura's cheek with his thumb, and found the silken feel of the skin irresistable.

"No, I guess not." Bakura answered, his face changing into a nice, deep red color as he tried to advert his gaze.

"I didn't think so." The Egyptian muttered flatly, letting go of the young teen and looked at him, barely aware of his gluttonous stare. "Are you afraid of me? You keep looking anywhere but at me, when I speak.."

"No, I'm just-I don't...I'm.."

"-Afraid that I'll slit your throat if you upset me?" Marik lilted, putting a playful finger just under the other's chin, and pressed an artery, making the little one squeal and slap his palms away.

"Please, I didn't do anything wrong!** Please** leave me alone." He insisted, his soft voice hitching in fear.

"I'm just teasing you. Listen to me now." Sighed the thief as he grabbed a thick tuft of hair, forcing it back to make Bakura look at him, and pressed a hand to his chest. "I won't kill you, I'm a thief, not a murderer. If I wanted to kill you, I would've done so, a long time ago, and you wouldn't have been able to object. I'm not going to deny I've never hurt, or killed people, because I had to. Your only choice is to trust that I won't harm you, it would be pointless. **I will not kill you."**

"Why can't I just leave, you have no use for me." Bakura whispered, unconsiously leaning against the palm that Marik placed on his cheek.

"Because, we can keep each other company, that's why. And..I'm feeling a bit restless, so I'll do you a favor." Marik announced, grabbing the smaller male under the arms and lifted him up, off the chair.

"Look at me." He demanded, not that there were other things he could do, other than obey if he wanted to be set down again.

"I am." Bakura mewled in childish fear, staring at him with wide, curious eyes.

"You..." The Egyptian tilted his head, prolonging the wait with a smug grin as he thought of what to say. After all, it probably didn't matter much what he said, Bakura would shy away instantly, and he actually wanted to get closer. That little runt was so much softer than he'd imagined, and his voice was so young and angelic. Not that the rest of him wasn't either, but his whole attitude just reeked of adorable, sweet innocence, and it made him want to** spoil **it. Made him want to change the tiny creature into a much more superior one.

"-I?" The boy finally said, batting those long eye lashes unconsiously. Marik studied him for another moment, realizing that he was taking far too long for this, and wondered all the while, what Bakura wore beneath that shirt of his.

"You're going to make a great thief one day, if you want to." He muttered, liking the way those brown orbs lit up with curiousity. Setting the young teen on the floor, he ruffled through his hair playfully and noticed a light tinge of pink on those pale cheeks again.

"I don't want to steal things though." Bakura replied shyly as he looked up at the Egyptian.

"What if I told you that you'd go far like that? You can, if you just want to. You wouldn't have to worry about anyone, but yourself." Marik said truthfully, poking him on the chest to punctuate the last words.

"I don't know, isn't it very dangerous?"

"Why, yes it is-" The blond tilted his head, gently taking one of Bakura's tiny palms into his and stroked the digits carefully. "But **these **are perfect fingers for a pick pocket you know...Even though..I could be wrong, after all - someone who was born to be a thief wouldn't doubt it." Marik said, feighning sadness and releasing Bakura's wrist again, he turned around, as if disappointed.

"I'm not doubting it!" Bakura objected, tugging in Marik's shirt with a short whine. "But you're better, you can say anything is easy!"

Eyes narrowing, Marik slowly faced the young teen once more, easily understanding the message.

"You'll grow up too one day, you know that, don't you?" The thief inquired loosely, admitting that he was, for his age, quite short. But surely, this couldn't continue forever, he'd lose those feminine features, eventually, maybe.

"But I will never look like** you.**" Bakura whispered, his voice so low it was barely audible. He brushed a bang from his eyes, seeming frustrated when it fell in front of them, shadowing his vision. And even though he didn't say it, the undertone of that sentence told Marik that he was disappointed with his appearance.

"No, you won't. Is that so bad?"

"You're like **everyone else**, and I'm too thin, I'm not agile or strong, or good."

"Are you worried about this?" Marik ran his fingers through the other's white tresses, finding his moonlit complexion adorable. It wasn't practical, but it was sweet, and he could spot all the blue marks a boy his age was bound to produce, including scars and tiny cuts.

"I'm not worried." Bakura insisted, pouting, said innocence of his age clinging to the childish statement, and Marik felt compelled to just squeeze the life out of him.

"You shouldn't be either. You'll be amazing." He told the teen, leaning over and tilted his head to the side, a grin spreading across his face when Bakura made no signs of moving.

"I'm not amazing. All I can do is read, and write a bit." Came the bitter retort, and Marik crept even closer to the whitehaired, his lips inches from the others. And even though it felt tempting to just steal a tiny kiss, he stayed, complimenting and giving the child hope.

"You could be able to use that later on, not everyone can do that. The best I can do is spell my own name. Who taught you?"

"Atem does. Daddy makes him things, and in return, Atem teaches me in the palace, and makes me sit in his lap."

Eyes narrowing, Marik mentally grimaced from what that sentence implied. Atem really **was **special. But then again, it probably wasn't healthy to want to kiss that snivelling little lump before him either. It didn't matter, at least he didn't cover it up as 'teaching' when he could take what he wanted, when he wanted.

"Did you ever tell your father that?" Marik murmered, covering his curiousity with ignorance and a careless scoff.

Sighing deeply, and awkwardly folding his hands together, Bakura nodded stiffly.

"I do, but he acts like he doesn't care, and get flustered, or he'll change the topic, and make me help him with work. Or he tells me to go outside and play. I have told him lots of times."

"Hmm..Next time Atem tells you to do **anything,** you knee him right...-" The Egyptian trailed a callous finger up the teen's legs, to his crotch, making him squeal and shy away. "There."

"Why?" Bakura spluttered, backing a few steps away from the older male, his eyes wide and filled with caution.

"I promise you, if you do, he'll never want to try again if you do so." Marik replied silkily, his eyes wandering about the room. "I'm tired now, show me where I can get some rest."

"But-" The little teen began desperately, eyeing Marik up with such an adorable expression.

"But?" He continued, and couldn't help but smirk. It had been a long time since he'd had a proper conversation with anyone who wasn't trying to kill him, and this child was so young and naive and innocent.

"**You touched me.**" Bakura murmered accusingly as he strayed off, just a couple of feet from the other.

"And? Did it feel bad?" Marik questioned, knowing exactly what type of answer he'd get in return.

"N..No, but I shouldn't." The whitehaired boy decided firmly as he tugged down in his shirt and seeked safety by the wall, though Marik stood still, even if he ran away, he wouldn't be going far.

"Shouldn't? Can't?...Or don't want to?" He said silkily, having nothing in mind to do but to make this little young man cry, for reasons unknown to the blonde.

"Shouldn't..." Bakura answered, leaning onto the wall and played with the hem of his shirt, and Marik couldn't help but notice those adorable goosebumps that marred his skin all of a sudden.

"Hm. Do you know what it is you shouldn't feel good about then?" He asked curiously, digging into his pouch on the table, retrieving a tiny bunch of dark grapes he'd swiped from the Pharaoh's bedroom when he'd fled the palace. He had intended to save them for another day in the sun since they did taste better than most of the usual stuff he could get.

Marik hesitated at first, knowing that he had to get going the morning after, and there was no way to tell how long it'd be to the next city. But then, he reminded himself that there was indeed, always tomorrow, he could go take fruit somewhere else.

Making his way to the little teen, he brushed a bang from his eyes, nonchalantly grabbing Bakura by his shoulder when he tried to cower away.

"Let go of me!" Bakura protested, yanking his arm back quickly. Sighing deeply, Marik seized his wrist, forcing the grapes into his palm and closed it.

"I asked you a question. Now eat those while we talk, it's good." The Egyptian said, gesturing at the dark fruits, and seeming very curious as to what it was, Bakura opened his hand and stared, quite puzzled.

"..What are these?"

"Grapes. Stole them from Atem, he's probably the only one who's able to afford them in this place."

"You stole them?"

"He'll never know, just eat." Marik urged him on, snatching one off and held it up to the boy's lips, an eye brow raised in anticapation. "Go on."

"Okay..." Bakura muttered, eating it as he was told, purring just a second later.

"I told you, didn't I?"

"Where can I get more?" Asked the young teen, a curious look in his eyes.

"Well..." Marik began, cocking his head to the side as he knelt down in front of him. "You could get rich in a damned hurry, or steal them yourself."

"I said I **wouldn't.**" Bakura insisted as he frowned deeply, eating the rest of his grapes in silence.

"Very well. Now, answer my question. Exactly **-why- **is it wrong for me to touch you? Do you know?" Said the blonde, a finger tracing under the other's chin.

"No." Bakura said sternly, putting both hands on Marik's. "I don't."

"Hm, I'll tell you..-Because it arouses you, and you're just a small child." Marik whispered, mentally grinning from the dowwright adorable reaction he got. Biting his lips nervously, Bakura looked down at his feet as they crossed over each other, a soft incomprehensible sound escaping him.

"I don't know what that is."

"My, I guess I'll have to show you then." The Egyptian said silkily, setting his hands on either side of the teen's head, effectively trapping him.

"Okay, I'll be quiet." Bakura responded, seeming to keep his eyes everywhere else, but at the older blonde.

"Do you ever have nice dreams, ever feel...**Excited? **But you can't explain why?" Marik asked as he leant in, his nose nuzzling up against the younger ones chest, making him mew uncertainly. He glanced up, the dark blush on his face giving him his answer, an answer that the boy never dared speak.

"I thought so. And since I'm rather, well-Bored, and we have spend the rest of the day here, I'll show you something...extraordinary."

Looking off modestly, the little teen bit his lips as he swallowed hard and eventually nodded stiffly.

"Well then, let's start out with something light at first." The Egyptian commented as he pecked Bakura on the lips, grinning when his eyes went wide in surprise.

"Y-you-I-I-No! Stop!" Bakura began, trying to withdraw when the blonde kissed him again, this time eagerly enough to press him into the wall.

"Shhh.." Marik cooed, sucking on his upper lip and pressed those thoughts, that told him to keep his hands off this child, far, far away. He was so soft and so cute, and if he could convince him that he was the good guy, and not Atem, then that was a plus. It probably wasn't smart to lie to the boy, but when morning came, he'd be gone, and it was out of his life again. He didn't need to worry about any consequences, it'd be fine.

"Hmm-no, no Mar-please stop!" The teen stuttered shakily, sliding down the wall, surely to avoid this, but Marik was persistent and followed him down, pinning his frail little wrists above his head.

"Stop, I said stop, please don't kill me!" Bakura wailed when Marik had moved to kiss up his neck, never getting to cover his mouth this time. Brows furrowing, the Egyptian withdrew briefly, not quite sure what he meant by killing.

"I am not intending to kill you, I already told you that." He said flatly, a callous palm sliding up beneath the boy's large shirt, to grasp one of his thin legs.

"Then what!" Bakura questioned wildly, seeming like he was mentally debating wether to keep struggling or settle with this, as he jerked away from the attention.

"I told you I'd show you, if you'd just stay still Bakura. And I promise it'll be the best thing you've ever tried, trust me on this." Marik purred in response, burying a hand in white tresses and tugged gently, a malicious grin spreading across his lips when the teen stirred innocently beneath him.

"Have you ever been kissed before Bakura?" He asked, releasing his wrists and began to trace his kisses lower, down south, the hesitation in Bakura's answer telling him that what he was doing, was quite good it seemed.

"Daddy kisses me goodnight." Bakura breathed hoarsely, sounding unnerved, but never protested against the Egyptian's advances.

"Well, I have other intensions than your father, you know that, right?"

"..I think so." The teen whispered as he stared into his lap, flinching when Marik's lips connected with his own again, all the while a very adventurous pair of fingers inched their way up his velvet like thighs.

"I like you Bakura, I think you're very pretty." Marik told the teen, knowing that flatter was something both women, and children liked, especially compliments like this one, and Bakura was no different. His cheeks burned into a deep red, and he made a modest comment about how he was lying, that it wasn't true.

"Atem says the same, that I can work for him when I'm older, but only because I'm pretty." Bakura keened, saying something like that so lightly, and Marik cursed his innocent mind for never noticing anything other than what he saw on the surface of people.

"Well, I think you're prettier, so you should work for me instead." He countered, never having intensions of bringing him along, but it was better to lie, than for Bakura to end up 'working' as Atem's harem slave.

"Okay? I just-" The teen began awkwardly, mewling as Marik started to kiss him again, with a little more force this time.

"I'm going to do something now, that may seem odd, but it'll feel good, believe me. Odd, but in a good way." Marik stated, pulling the tiny body beneath to lay down, easing him onto the hard flooring with caution. Then, when he was certain that Bakura was settled, he pushed between those short, thin legs, kissing him eagerly, and mentally grinned when the teen carefully tried to kiss him back, lacking experience.

Bakura stirred and mewled, seeming very content with the tan palms that slid up and down his legs, even though this was probably more than just foreign to his young mind. But Marik didn't care, he was not too oblivious or young to feel pleasure after all, and he wanted him, badly, and probably too badly.

Marik purred as he went on, nibbling on the teen's pink lips, wanting to bite them clean off, but decided against it. He'd hate to have his clothes covered in blood so early, so he went in for another kiss, easily getting his toungue in without objections, although, from the widening of Bakura's brown eyes, it was obvious he'd never tried anything like that before. Smirking slightly, the Egyptian let his hands slide down the teen's sides, forcing him to lay as still as possible. He held him down, ignoring the change of behaviour in Bakura, as he guided his fingers towards the soft junction between thigh, and delicious warmth.

"What are you doing?" Bakura whined, his hands reaching down to stop the blonde from continuing, eyes wide and fearful. Marik huffed, grabbing both of his thin wrists and held them together, proceeding.

"I told you it'd feel odd, but I swear, it'll be better. And if you feel that I've lied when we're finished, I will let you have all the money I stole from Atem, and, you can kill me." Marik promised, a fingertip tracing lightly against the soft cotton of the child's undergarnments, smirking from the quiet mewls he was rewarded with.

"How's that sound?" He continued, a nail scraping the fabric beneath his hand in an antagonizingly slow pace. Bakura shivered, his lower lip sucked in between his teeth, as he chewed on it.

"F-fine, but daddy says-" Bakura protested mildly, cut off by the Egyptian.

"Your father won't ever need to know." Said the blonde as he hugged the tiny little body against his own, a palm seeking higher up under the loose shirt.

"Are you sure?"

"I am very sure." Marik insisted, easily lifting the child off the floor, and held Bakura, one hand firmly clamped around his thigh. "Where do you sleep?"

Swallowing and pointing shyly to a red curtain, Bakura grabbed the Egyptian's shoulders, supporting himself. And determinly, Marik walked into the room, pushing the curtain aside and spotted the single, very suitable bed, and nonchalantly dropped the young teen on it. Bakura gasped, but remained submissive like he'd been told, and stared at Marik as he wandered off to grab something in the pouch by the table.

"I assume this'll be easier if I use this." He commented to himself, throwing a vile of scented oil on the bed next to Bakura. Sometimes, he appreciated the ability to figure out what he needed, and what wasn't necasary when he nailed things from Atem.

"I guess." Bakura replied, seeming oblivious to the item's use, but wanted to say something. Snapping his fingers once, Marik pointed at the edge of the bed, his expression sharp and stern.

"Lay on your back, and stay there." He demanded, but before Bakura found the time to obey, the Egyptian grabbed him by wrists and ankles, forcing him to spread out.

While Marik pulled the cork off the vile and threw the little one a soft pillow from his side. Bakura stared at him, too frightened to move even an inch. Not that it bothered the blonde, but he'd expected him to run, honestly. Although, he **had** threatened him on his life, so it was understandable.

"Up with the knees too." He heard himself order, slapping the teens calves softly, and was quite satisfied when he obeyed without question.

"What are we doing now?" Bakura asked, his voice back to the shy and timid stage, as his eyes filled with curiousity.

"You're not doing anything. You'll lay there, and do whatever I tell you to." Marik replied calmy, poking his nose and got comfortable between the teen's lean legs. He reached down, two fingers hooking in the cotton bottoms, and he made Bakura raise his hips, so he could ease them off him. Discarding them and going for the shirt next, he realized it resembled changing his brothers clothes, and how much he'd hated it. But as soon as that horrible thought came into his mind, he threw it aside, and shoved the mental images of ever comparing this sweet nymph to his younger brother.

"What's wrong?" Bakura questioned innocently, his huge eyes staring him right in the face, and for a moment, Marik felt compelled to slapping him. Very hard, and then again perhaps, to knock some sense into him. Because with a tiny, flawless little frame like his, it wouldn't take too long for nasty, dingy men in the streets at night to notice him, and he'd be hurt one way or another.

And as he mused, Marik also realized that he was **surely** one of said nasty old men, though, he didn't care, he'd seen him first, and he was going to get him. Finders, keepers.

And he'd never let him stay with Atem, Bakura was too...Unique? - to be something so, common, although, a thief wasn't anything special either. It certainly would save him a lot of trouble, compared to living at the palace.

"Nothing." Marik answered finally, rolling his eyes and poured a well amount of oil onto his fingers.

"Okay. Is it going to hurt?" Bakura said uncertainly, his mouth falling open when the Egyptian chose to answer the question by swiftly entering him with a single, coated digit. Shifting, the young teen grimaced lightly by the cold sensation. He groaned and huffed, clearly unused to that sort of treatment.

"It **will **feel uncomfortable, I'll tell you that much." Responded the Egyptian, withdrawing briefly, only to let it slide back in, enjoying the fact that he was getting little to no resistance, despite of how tight he was.

"You've never tried this have you?" He asked, finding it very odd that Bakura remained submissive, and never made a single objection, even as he continued, needing to be rougher for it to work properly.

"No." Bakura croaked, gasping when Marik began to ease in another digit, his eyes shutting tight. "Wait!"

"Wait?" Marik grinned, wanting to do everything but 'wait'. Except, it seemed that the teen was intending to make him wait, because he squirmed, making an already difficult task harder.

"It hurts, wait." The teen protested with a whine, and surely it must've hurt a lot, since Marik wasn't exactly as considerate as he could've been. Though, he wouldn't tell him that, he wanted his relief as soon as possible.

"I told you it'd be better, just get used to it." He informed him, but when he tried to continue, and Bakura clamped his legs around his arm, Marik actually felt angry.

"No, it hurts!" And when he felt the urge to slap him resurface, he set his jaw, releasing the child and threw him over his lap, earning himself a cry of surprise.

"I-" Bakura never got to object further, before he cried out, long and loud, as a tan palm smacked his backside, so hard that the Egyptian momentarily scared himself from his own reaction.

"Behave! I thought I told you to do everything I said, and I don't recall you making any rules!" Marik barked, fully aware that he sounded much more intimidating than he had to.

"I'm sorry." The teen croaked, and lifting him back onto the bed, Marik frowned, giving the impression of a disappointed father.

"**Good**. Then we'll try **again**. Lay down, spread your legs, and shut your trap while I'm working."

Tears welling up in his deep brown eyes, Bakura did as he was told, wincing as he lay back down, shivering and snivelling.

"It wouldn't be wise of me to have you killed, my dear, so you might as well stop whining, I won't feel sorry for you." Marik commented, going back to preparing the little teen, savouring the tightness of what he assumed was a virgin body. Although, with the things Bakura had told him about Atem, he felt compelled to ask, because his skittish nature was slightly unnerving.

"Bakura, you're a virgin right?" He asked, rubbing against a spot inside the teen that made him hiss in modest pleasure.

"..Mmm..." Bakura pressed out between closed lips, eyes widening when Marik seemed disappointed and he'd figured out what was yet to come.

"I didn't quite hear that?"

Blushing furiously at the mention of something he had only just been taught recently, Bakura nodded stiffly, answering to what he assumed was a sexual question.

"I think so." He assured the blonde with an extra nod, and Marik rewarded him with a peck on the lips, though he was relucant at first. "I'm a virgin, when no one has been with me in bed, right?"

"Yes...Yes that's true, let's say I'll be the only one then."

Shifting uncomfortably beneath the Egyptian, Bakura shrugged, and looked down himself.

"Alright-But-"

"You, quiet - I only have till tomorrow, and I've got a lot of time to spend. I've been awfully bored." Marik shushed the little teen, feeling quite content that he was saving a lot of money he could've used at the brothel. After all, a man had needs and he would rather pay for services than have to build a relationship to some woman. But this would do just fine too.

"O-okay, but how-"

"Shhh, you'll see. I'll show you, but if you don't stay still very soon, I'm gonna have to tie you up." Marik threatened loosely, eyeing a suitable capelike article of clothing he could use for this, if he had to. It probably wouldn't be needed, Bakura was far from strong enough to push him off, even if he tried to.

"No! No, I'll be good, I'll be good." Bakura babbled, eyes widened and his lips quivering. The teen shifted, timidly reaching up to touch Marik, and though it came unexpected, the Egyptian didn't mind. He let Bakura's pale arms wrap around his neck, and leant down to kiss him, using the closeness to muffle those pained mewls.

"This is better." He commented, feeling Bakura tug and pull in his hair, but chose to ignore it, if that was the way he coped. Thrusting his fingers quite forcefully, Marik clutched the little body closer to himself and let Bakura hold on tighter to deal with the pain. He didn't mind in the beginning, but he couldn't help but wince when the strength Bakura put in, was making their teeth mash together painfully.

Tasting a small amount of blood as he released the boy's lips, Marik swallowed, grimacing as he did so. Bakura looked at him, trying to pull him back down, but the Egyptian wouldn't budge.

"I'm not gonna keep kissing you." Marik said, irritated that the look Bakura send him managed to make him feel guilty. It made him even more angry that it provoked some sort of reaction, just from a sheer look.

"Okay." Bakura murmered, laying his arms against the pillow. He kept quiet after that though, and Marik appreciated the silence, paying attention to his preparations instead.

And even though they were only necasary touches, that weren't meant to be prolonged, Marik found himself egged on by the squirming body underneath him. Bakura twisted and turned, and while he did not posses the experience of all those women Marik had bedded, his shocked reactions were adorable. He obviously knew nothing of what was yet to come, as opposed to the women, he merely cried, begged, mewled and spluttered with surprise whenever Marik's swift digits came to a new area.

He was a perfect being. The only thing that could be seen as negative, was the irritating discovery Marik made when he tried to catch the boy's attention.

Because, while he was sweet, and made hypnotizingly cute sounds, he lacked the stamina that Marik wanted.

Bakura was already growing tired, exhaustion making him limp in the Egyptian's arms, the struggling had eventually ceased, replaced with soft, ragged breathing. His behaviour made Marik want to speed things up, so he could properly wake the child up again, but he didn't wish for his very first time to end in a bloody mess. The sheer fact that he was considering giving the kid extra attention annoyed him, but he had never engaged anything with such a precious little thing such as Bakura. The thought had never even strayed past his mind till today, and now that he was actually doing it, the feeling was completely unreal. Not only was it wrong, but there was also a slight possibility that he was ruining this boy's life.

He was just too damned caught up to be bothered with the consequences.

"I-is this it?" Bakura spoke up all of a sudden, sounding pleased, but disappointed, all at once.

Marik's eyebrows furrowed in irritation, the kid had the gall to imply that his lovemaking was bad, painful. And he didn't have any former experiences to compare to, so he'd have to up his efforts, if he were to amaze that quivering lump before him.

"No, this is merely to get you ready, didn't I tell you?" He murmered as he leant down, letting his teeth graze across one pebbled nipple, and grinned, as Bakura gasped and clutched a fistful of hair.

"N-No! You'll bite it off, you'll bite it off!" Bakura cried frantically, his childish retort making Marik chuckle, and repeat the action. As the tiny palm tangled in his hair, pulled hard, he thrust his fingers inside Bakura at an equal strength. He sucked on the little bud, and the young teen all but cried, saying it was unfair, and tickled everywhere.

"I'm wondering Bakura...Have you thought about what you wanna be when you grow any further, since we had that little talk?" Marik questioned casually, curious if he'd even be able to answer properly.

"I'm not a liar, or a thief, I don't do horrible things!" Bakura whined, his mouth fell ajar as the older man smirked, and stroked his hair with his free hand.

"You'll become both, I swear." Teased the Egyptian, testing the smaller body by chewing on that nipple, the one that Bakura feared he'd bite off, just slightly. He wasn't going to merely inflict pain on the child, so he continued to finger him, all the while pondering if he'd be able to accommodate a bigger object.

"I'm not a thief!" Bakura insisted, unconsciously bucking his hips against the blonde, and by then, Marik was certain he'd earned his consent to try something different. It wouldn't be long before his young, oblivious head followed up on his body's needs, and he'd be happy to fulfill those needs and wishes.

"So you say." He murmered, releasing the smaller body at last, and watched with glee, as those big, brown eyes clouded over with desire. Surely, he wouldn't be able to determine what sort of desire it was just yet, but that was the exact reason reason Marik was there to explain.

"What are you doing now?" Asked the child, as Marik shifted, and threw one of those thin legs over his side.

"I'm going to do something different now. You've been thoroughly taken care of now, so I think it's only in it's place that I get something in return." Marik whispered, undressing himself, keeping his gaze locked with Bakura's, who slowly turned his attention lower and lower with every passing second. Once he was completely bare, Bakura's eyes were wide, but instead of fear, they showed naive, pure, curiousity. Understandably, he probably had no clue as to what was going to happen, and Marik knew he'd fight if he did.

"Is it going to hurt?"

Marik frowned, thinking about saying 'yes' for a mere second, before tossing it aside, and whispered a firm no to the boy. It was better to take him off guard, than accumulate more fear than he felt nessecary.

Positioning himself and raising those thin hips up, to rest in his lap, Marik put both his palms on either side of Bakura's flushed cheeks. Letting go with one hand, he held onto the teen's lower back, and thrust inside, before there'd be any objections.

The brute action was accompanied by a moan to rival that of a harlot's, and his immediate response was to lean down, and kiss Bakura till he couldn't breathe.

"You lied!" Bakura spat, forgetting all about being shy and skittish.

Smirking, and nibbling on those pink lips, Marik chuckled, combing through white bangs quite casually. He purposely stayed in place, even though the younger male pushed and shoved at him, to let him adjust, which would, obviously take a moment.

"Hmm, I'm a thief aren't I?" He said quietly, finally taking time to savour the feel of that body in his arms, and realized that it was much too tight. It wasn't horrible, nor was it wonderful, it was tighter than what he'd liked, Bakura was too small, and he wished he'd been just a few years older – At least.

"What's going to happen now?" Bakura asked uncertainly, groaning when Marik moved within him.

"We're going to finish what we started, it's not going to take very long I'm assuming." Marik said softly, holding Bakura close to himself as he withdrew and thrust back in.

"O-oh," Bakura croaked, blinking multiple times before he turned his attention back to the older man. "It hurts. But it's okay, do it again."

Staying quiet, Marik buried his face in the crook of Bakura's neck and chuckled. Without needing to be told twice, he bucked his hips once more, relishing in the twisted moan he pulled from the boy's lips. His response was the same as before, Bakura gasped, whined and told him to continue, which he did.

Again and again, till there was no more response to force out of the young teen, other than a simple nod, and soft mewls.

He knew that it was stupid, and surely dangerous to proceed when Bakura was so worn out, but he'd put all his concentration and efforts into that kid, he barely acknowledged how much he needed release. And without much thought, Marik continued to grind into the smaller body vigorously, needing to test it's limits. He put in much more strength than he'd found suitable for the teen at first, listening closely to how Bakura screamed and shrieked and begged all at once.

Growing desperate, Marik tried to ignore the rising need to come, but had to admit defeat once Bakura clawed at his shoulders and murmered a childish love declaration. With a deep growl, he fisted Bakura's hair tightly, and with one last buck of his hips, came inside of him.

"Just stay quiet." Marik groaned, breathing heavily as he rested on the teen's chest, and he mentally urged himself to recover, so he could tend to Bakura. The little runt was hard against him, wide eyed and gasping to breathe, he wasn't one to let him down.

"Bakura, you need to listen carefully now-" He whispered raggedly as he withdrew, fumbling between their clammy bodies, and wrapped his palm around Bakura's arousal. "Don't let **anyone** do this to you, ever. I mean it, do you understand?"

Eyebrows furrowing and body convulsing, Bakura nodded stiffly as he whined at the contact. His knees dug into Marik's waist, and his hands were everywhere but on the blonde. Soon after, he covered his mouth modestly, and Marik knew it wasn't long till he'd break, Bakura was a twitching, sweaty and adorable mess. He hoisted Bakura onto his knee by the shoulders, kissing the soft patch of skin behind his ear, and smiled tiredly as the body in his arms went rigid. A low, throaty whimper fell from Bakura's lips, and he went limp against Marik's chest, breathing hard.

"...That was so good." Bakura murmered, the naive statement making Marik laugh.

"I'll believe you." He whispered, deciding he'd let the kid stay, and licked the substance off his fingers. It was white, but clear and while he hadn't asked how often Bakura touched himself, it couldn't have been daily yet. There was no point in complaining though, he was young, and the taste was merely bland.

"I'm sleepy now." Bakura announced after a while, shifting in the blonde's lap, and winced.

"Yes, that's only to be expected." Marik said softly, comfortingly stroking his back to ease the pain.

"Can I sleep then?"

Pondering the question for a moment, Marik murmered a 'Yes', and pried Bakura off. He hurriedly redressed, watching the teen stare at him from the corner of his eye, and decided he'd make sure he slept.

"Bakura, lay down." He ordered, and much like before, Bakura obeyed without a complaint.

As he loosely tied his scarf around his neck, he wandered back to the teen's side, lazily pulling the blanket over his naked body.

"Did I do well?" Bakura asked, bunching the fabric up over his chest and hugged it.

"Yes, yes you did. I'm sorry this is so untidy now, but it was better than the floor." Marik murmered, forcing himself to refrain from combing Bakura's hair. "Do you have thieves coming here often?"

"No, you're the first."

Getting up, before he'd start smothering that little runt again, Marik quickly pecked him on the lips, mildly surprised when Bakura grasped a lock of hair and pulled.

"Stay." He whispered, frowning.

"I am. But you're tired, and you need to sleep, just be careful when you get up." Marik responded, cupping the boy's face gently, and he kissed him again, less innocently this time.

Bakura eagerly returned the kiss, with as much experience he could produce, and wrapped his arms around the older man.

"I wish you weren't here to take things. You gotta go tomorrow, right?"

Nodding slowly, Marik ditched his earlier restrictions, and ruffled through Bakura's hair.

"Yes, but I'll stay here while you sleep." He said, fully aware that he was lying to a child who, for some reason trusted him by now.

A bright, yet shy smile spread across the teen's face, and Bakura modestly hid himself under the blanket.

"Okay. But you can sleep too, if you want." He declared, and Marik pecked him once more on the lips, telling him goodnight.

It was far from night, but that didn't matter, Bakura was exhausted. And it didn't take long for him to fall asleep, Marik waited mere minutes, till he was contently tangled up within the blanket, snoring softly.

He stayed by the teen's side for an hour, knowing their noisy, intimate moment had been bound to worry someone, and it wouldn't be long until someone would check to see if anyone had been murdered. It wasn't easy to go, when he knew there were other thieves in the city, and Bakura was alone after all. But the more he tried to justify staying by his side, the more he realized he needed to get out, despite his lack of proper rest.

It'd be best after all, instead of giving the boy wrong ideas.

So he got up, threw his little pouch by the floor, and left, forgetting about that shy runt. Hopefully, he'd remember him as merely the one who gave him his first kiss.

* * *

Waiting patiently on a rooftop, just 7 years later, a whitehaired thief sighed deeply, as yet another day passed by, wasted. He stared at the mass of people in the street, listening to the jingle of jewelry and coins in the pouch he absently riffled through. There were only a handful of tan, blonde men down there, and neither appealed to him, so he crossed his legs, begrudgingly admitting defeat. Releasing another sigh, he wondered when, and if Marik would ever return, to retrieve the things he'd left behind.

All rational sense told him no, but Bakura spent most of his time thinking the opposite.

* * *

**That was one horribly rushed, and bad ending.**

**If anyone wants to talk to me out of Fanfiction, or just needs to get a hold of me, you can find me at Tumblr and Deviantart, both screennames are "NewPotatoMash", feel free to write.**


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